I’d heard about this woman in her early seventies from the neighborhood children who affectionately called her “The Cookie Grandma,” so was glad to see her working in her yard as I trotted down the road in the autumn sunshine.

“Hello!” she shouted through a big smile stretching from one prominent cheekbone to another.

Drawn like a magnet, I slowed my pace to stand before her piles of newly fallen leaves. “Uh, hi! I’ve heard a lot about you – you’re Lois, right?”

“That’s me! And you’re new to the neighborhood. Your name again, is … ?”

“I’m Jean. My husband and I are retiring in the little white house down the road.”

“So glad to meet you; we’ll have to get acquainted! Would you like to come for tea sometime soon – say, maybe Thursday?”

Lois exuded something unusual – perhaps an invitation to share comfort? Caught off guard by her instantaneous warmth, I responded, “Sure! What time?”

“Oh, would two o’clock in the afternoon be alright? Don’t eat much lunch and we’ll enjoy a little something together.”

On Thursday I woke with a sense of expectancy, almost like a child awaiting a holiday celebration or a friend’s birthday party. The morning hours seemed to crawl by lethargically as I frittered the time while piddling with my usual chores.

Finally at one fifty-five I walked the short distance to Lois’ house, scuffing rust-colored leaves all the way, and rang the doorbell.

“Hello dear girl! Here you are; please come in!”

Lois greeted me with a hug akin to those shared between family members or life-long friends, and then ushered me inside to her kitchen. There my eyes feasted upon a linen-covered table proudly displaying delicate china, silk flowers, and a huge pillar candle. Two plates sat side-by-side, full of tantalizing morsels. A framed picture of Lois and another woman stood next to the inevitable teapot.

“Here’s your place – see your nametag?” I picked up the rose-rimmed card highlighting my name and a scripture verse: Psalm 119:103,104. As I sat down and spread a napkin framed with hand-crocheted lace in my lap, Lois’ voice recited “my” verse of the day.

“How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! I gain understanding from your precepts; therefore I hate every wrong path.”

“I so love the Psalms!” Her radiant face spoke volumes.

“Thanks Lois - I totally agree! Now I have to ask – who is that other woman in the picture with you?”

Lois’ eyes grew soft. “That’s my baby sister who died years ago as a young mother. I always bring that picture to my tea parties – it’s almost as if she’s here.”

Suddenly the unity in this tiny room grew to include three rather than two. Obviously Lois expressed a magnified and inclusive love – so opposite of the guarded, limited cultural norm.

As Lois poured the teapot’s hot water over my cinnamon-apple teabag, spicy aromatherapy wafted upwards and hung over the table – a reminder of God’s cloud of Shekinah glory.

She picked up a tiny tuna sandwich edged with ruffled lettuce, took a small bite, and waited for me to speak. Her knowing eyes seemed to pierce mine as if in search of some treasure she already knew was there. Interestingly, I felt no shame or hesitancy - only the desire to authentically bare my soul.

“I … I don’t quite know why I’m telling you this … but I’ve been praying for a mentor, Lois ... someone a bit older and wiser who knows the Lord and can counsel me. My husband’s health is failing and sometimes I feel so alone ... you know?”

The candlelight reflected in her eyes as she reached out a beautifully manicured hand to clasp mine. “I’m here for you, honey, all the way. The Lord and I have navigated some pretty rough spots in my own life; I know what it means to rely on His grace and power.”

Somehow I believed her. A tear rolled down my cheek as I took a sip of tea knowing this kind of unity and transparency to be unique to kindred spirits – those who engage in the holy privilege of Christian fellowship.

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This Lois doesn't happen to live in Annapolis, MD does she? Not sure if she is fictional or not, but you just described my former pastor's wife to a tee. Her name happens to be Lois as well. Wonderful story. Brought tears to my eyes.
Dawn